


Another Year, Another Banquet

by Crollalanza



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Comfort, Fluff, Friendship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 10:40:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9068125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crollalanza/pseuds/Crollalanza
Summary: Yuuri remembers only too well the taste of defeat. It's bitter and numbing, forcing every smile from his life.And he doesn't want Phichit to feel the same way, not even if it means skipping this year's banquet.He just hopes Victor will understand.





	

 “You look distracted _,_ ” Victor murmured, draping his arms over Yuuri’s shoulders to pull him close. His brow furrowed, and the heart-shaped mouth closed to an ‘o’. “What’s the matter?”

“This time last year,” Yuuri began, then stopped to sigh, pulling at his cuffs as he tried to frame his thoughts.  

“What about it?”

“I was so unhappy.”

Victor pressed his lips to Yuuri’s temple, then booped him on the nose – a familiar gesture, and one that usually made Yuuri smile and pull him out of whatever dark mood he was sinking into. “Not so I noticed,” Victor followed up with. “You were a very happy and energetic dancer.”

“Hum, well, that was drunk me, and I still can’t remember much about that. But-”He put a finger on Victor’s mouth, forestalling the teasing recollections, which became more extreme every time Victor told the tale. “Before the banquet, I was miserable, and that’s the only reason I drank so much.”

Victor pushed out his bottom lip, an exaggerated pout, then laughed lightly. “And there was me hoping for another dance-off. This time I was going to join you on the pole and stop Chris having all the fun.”

“Ha ...” Yuuri backed away, a little nervous because sometimes, even now, he wasn’t always sure when Victor was joking especially when the blue ice chips of his eyes sparkled. “Uh ... anyway, that’s not really what I was thinking about.” He cleared his throat.  “I’m ... um ... worried about ... uh ...”

“Your friend,” Victor stated softly.

“Pardon?”

“You’re thinking about Phichit, I understand.” He took a small step back, holding Yuuri at arms’ length. “Go and talk to him.”

“But we’re due at the banquet. I thought you wanted us to attend together.”

“Pfft. They can wait for us,” he said, tossing his head. His hair fell back into place effortlessly and he smiled. Touching Yuuri’s shoulder, Victor flicked his fingers up to catch his cheek in a soft caress. “I’m sure he’ll be okay, but I’ll be _here_ , whatever you decide to do.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri muttered, and kissed his cheek before he left.

***

Speeding along the hotel corridor, and down one floor in the lift, Yuuri hesitated before rapping on Phichit’s door. Last year it had been Celestino’s brash brand of persuasion – part pleas, part bullying, and part bribery – that had coerced him into a suit. And not that he remembered it (he continued to insist, even to himself) but although the consequences of that first glass of champagne had altered his course so violently, he had come so close to bailing on last year’s banquet that he wasn’t sure what he’d say to his friend if he was in the same frame of mind.

But as he knocked, taking a breath, he heard the same familiar chirp of a voice beckoning him in, and entered the room.

Phichit was dressed – not in jeans and a hoodie as if he were about to flee, but in a suit. A pale blue suit, white shirt and a multi-coloured tie as bright as the smile adorning his face.

“Yuuri!” he cried, and span away from the mirror. “Is something wrong?”

“Um ... I thought you might ... uh ... I ... wondered if you’d like to ... um ...” He swallowed, wondering how to phrase it because to his astonishment, Phichit’s eyes were wide, his lips were curved upwards and his every mannerism screamed cheeriness.

_Wow, he’s brave._

Yuuri knew Phichit had a smile that could steal sunshine from the sky, bright and wide, all teeth and sparkles, a light that beamed and warmed, giving heart to everyone in his vicinity. A smile that would have made Yuuri’s cheeks ache if he’d been the one bestowing it.

_Especially now._

But although he had it on good authority (well, Victor, if he _could_ be called remotely good or authoritative) that he too possessed a smile that could melt icecaps, Yuuri also knew he couldn’t have kept up such a display for _so_ long a time.

_Oh, this is bad._

Since he’d known Phichit, he’d ever seen him unhappy. Sure, there’d been the odd (very odd) flash of temper when he was extra hungry after a long day’s training, but that was understandable. But Phichit’s temper consisted of a very quiet ‘dammit’ followed almost immediately by a shrug and a sigh. And then another smile, as if to say ‘sorry, normal service has been resumed.’

“Am I late, or something?” Phichit asked, and reached across to the windowsill for his eyeliner. “Only I know the banquet starts at eight, but I didn’t think I had to –”

“No, no, of course you don’t _have_ to attend,” Yuuri interrupted. “I only did last year because Celestino strong-armed me, saying I was contractually obliged. But it’s _not_ compulsory and if you’d rather stay in your room, or ... um ...” He took a breath, Victor would kill him for suggesting this, but ... well ... Phichit had always been there for him, and there was no way he would dump him in his hour of need. “Hey, we could go out into Barcelona, do that sightseeing you wanted to do when I was napping. Victor won’t mind and –”

A small frown marred Phichit’s face.

_The first crack in his sunny facade?_

He swept the eyeliner across first one lid then the other, before he grinned at his reflection.

_So brave, but you’re not alone in this, Phichit!_

“We could find a restaurant,” Yuuri suggested.

“Um, Yuuri,” Phichit replied. “I meant that I didn’t think we had to be there straight away.”  He fiddled with his tie, smoothing it under his suit jacket. “If you’d rather go sightseeing, then I guess we could. Only ...” His mouth dropped a little. “I’m kinda looking forward to tonight.”

“You are?”

“Uh-huh, sure. Like all the great food, and I can’t wait to take photos. I guess I shouldn’t really drink, but I’d like to try some champagne and -”

“But you ... uh ...” Yuuri gulped, then took a step away, hoping to cover his confusion with a flurry of hands. “Okay, then I’ll see you there. Unless you want to come down with me and Victor.”

“Nah, that’s cool. I want to post a few more pics.” His eyes lit up. “But as you’re here, then one selfie with the silver medallist – that’ll set the evening off to a great start.”

“You’re ... um ... taking this so well.”

“Hmm? Oh ... you mean not medalling?”

He scuffed the toe of his shoe on the carpet. “Well, yeah.”

“I’m not gonna say I didn’t dream about gold, but ...” Phichit sighed and gave a small type of shrug. “Skating is fun, don’t you think? Or at least it should be.” He closed his eyes. “I love everything about it,” he whispered. “It’s like there’s an orchestra and I’m the conductor making beautiful music. So bright, so colourful, and so much warmth and love from everyone.” He beamed again, opening his eyes to peep at Yuuri. “Can’t wait to do it again.” And then he scrunched up his nose. “Next time, I’ll be on that podium with you.”

Positioning Yuuri in the centre of the room, he sidled up to him then held up his phone. “Smile, Yuuri. Say ... um ... ‘hamster’!’”

Duly obliging, Yuuri grinned, and hoped his expression showed how light and relieved his heart now was. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yes, save me a drink,” Phichit replied. And then he giggled, casting Yuuri a sly look. “And a dance, too.”

 

***

“You knew he’d be fine, didn’t you.”

“Mmmhmm.” Victor’s teeth nuzzled Yuuri’s ear.

 “I wasn’t. The biggest loser in ice skating is what I thought.”

With a sharp click of his tongue, Victor flicked a speck of dust off his suit, tightened Yuuri’s tie before finally pronouncing himself satisfied. “Coming last does not make you a loser, Yuuri. Someone should have told you that last year.”

“Celestino tried. I didn’t want to listen. And I really felt as if my world had imploded.”

“Because you hadn’t done your best,” Victor reasoned. “That and you’re much harder on yourself than you should be.” He tweaked Yuri’s hair. “Would you really have stayed in your room if Celestino hadn’t turned up and forced you to attend?”

He shook his head, wondering if now was the time to confess how close he’d come to taking that irrevocable step. “My case was packed, and I was ready to leave for the airport to try and catch an earlier flight to Japan.”

Victor’s fingers graced his cheek, moving to his lips, and as Yuuri stared back into his eyes, he watched as the ice melted to a blue shimmering sea.

“Thank God for Celestino, then,” Victor said, his voice thick. “We must drink to him tonight.”

“Sure.” Yuuri sniffled, and leaning forwards, he brushed his lips on Victor’s mouth.

Then Victor winked, not the wink he used for his fans or the media, but his right-eyed wink, still as dazzling as that first time in the onsen back in Hasetsu. “Not too much, though. I don’t want you collapsing on me again.”

“For something I have no recollection of, you’re determined to keep reminding me about it,” Yuuri muttered. He pulled away, getting cross now, although whether it was at Victor’s teasing or his own flaky memory, he wasn’t quite sure.

Laughing, Victor reached out, caught Yuuri’s tie and yanked him back into his arms. “It was the most important banquet of my life, so I don’t ever want to forget.” He paused, released Yuuri, and petalled another kiss on his mouth.

Mollified, Yuuri shifted, laying his head on Victor’s chest, reassured by the _thudder-thunk_ of his heart.

“And,” Victor murmured, his voice caressing and warm, “this time when you proposition me, Yuuri, I want to be able to act on it _straight_ away and not have to wait half a year.”


End file.
